


Women Logic

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Scott is a Failwolf, Seriously blink and you miss it, Stiles knows his women, minor Stydia - Freeform, sad allison, valentines day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 02:26:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7739875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <strong>"Oh no, don't worry about presents. I don't need anything."</strong>
  <br/>
  <em>Translation - I'm trying to be polite by declining gift offers but I would actually be really offended if you got me nothing.</em>
</p><p>Scott doesn't understand women logic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Women Logic

**Author's Note:**

> My first Stallison fic woah! I've never written anything that doesn't have Stiles or Derek as the main protagonist, so if this is bad and all over the place, then I'm sorry but I tried.
> 
> I actually thought of this in February, but I haven't updated it until now because I wrote it, lost it and then found it again a few days ago. So let's just pretend it February again and this is totally appropriate for this time of year :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy it, leave comments and kudos! You guys rock <3

Scott can officially say, he has royally fucked up.

Who knew a simple day in the year could cause so much heart ache and tears? Scott didn’t. Who knew that the female species don’t mean what they say? Scott defiantly didn’t.

He had planned everything, he’d called early and reserved a table at the restaurant Allison always said she wanted to eat at, he’d gone into town and bought a black tux with his money from woking at Deaton’s, he’d rented a car because he knew Allison wasn’t keen on riding on the back of his bike — plus, that isn’t exactly romantic considering what Scott was trying to do. Scott had done everything he could think of, everything he’d seen in the movies and everything he’d imagined a girl would want.

The evening had been going perfect. The restaurant had delivered the exact standard Allison had talked about. The food had been hoovered down in minutes, Scott’s taste buds crying with joy at the special treatment of the stunning food. They shared a dessert, ice-cream and chocolate brownie with one spoon.

He just forgot one thing, and apparently one of the most important things because when Allison pulled out the three new shirts and a spanking new denim jacket, Scott looked at her with a confused frown because he hadn’t bought anything in return.

BUT, in Scott’s defence, Allison _had said_ that she didn’t want to bother with presents! Her exact words, three days before when they’d been discussing it, had been, _'oh, don’t bother with presents, I don’t want anything,'_. Thats what Scott heard, thats what Scott did! Surely 'don’t bother with presents' means 'don’t bother with presents', right?

W.R.O.N.G!

Scott later discovered that not buying anything for your girlfriend on Valentines day — even though they said not too? — is a huge dick move and almost guarantees a silent meal and a awkward drive home. Allison had climbed silently out of the car Scott had rented, giving him a quick and sad 'goodbye' before walking up to the house and shutting the door behind her. That was not how it was supposed to go! Scott had imagined kissing, touching, heat and lust. He had imagined ripping Allison’s dress off her, revealing the beautiful body beneath that Scott could roam and touch in ways he’d dreamed about. He’d imagined falling asleep that night, hot, sweaty and tired but so fucking happy because Allison would be lying in his arms, pressed against his chest. Allison had even convinced her evil and terrifying parents to go away for the weekend so they would have had the house to themselves but that is not going to happen because Allison _walked away._

Scott had tried not to think about it too much as he drove home. His mind was working a mile a minute, only half of his concentration on the road and the other half trying to work out what the hell he did wrong. He went to sleep that night cold and lonely, not a bone in his body aching with the aftermath of sex but instead a growing migraine and empty dreams.

The next day was worse. He still hadn’t figured out where he had gone wrong.

He met Stiles at the doors and they walked in together like they always did.

"So, how’d the date go?" Stiles had asked as they made way to his locker.

Scott was about to answer but suddenly Lydia Martin was marching towards them, sporting a vicious scowl.

"Hey, Lyds—" Stiles had started but stopped when Lydia raised her hand and slapped Scott directly on his cheek with a loud and sharp 'SLAP'.

_So thats what it feels like to be bitch-slapped by Lydia Martin._

"You big, stupid dick!" Lydia had shouted. People in the halls had paused and looked or scurried off and pretended they hadn’t seen anything. It wasn’t everyday that Lydia raised her voice, and it defiantly wasn’t everyday that Lydia wasted her energy being violent.

"Woah," Stiles had said, face shocked and slightly amused. "Calm down, Lyds."

"I will not calm down," Lydia then hissed and she looked at Scott sharply. "You better apologise, you have no idea how much of a mistake you have made."

"You slapped me! Why should I apologise to yo—"

"Not to me, you cretin," Lydia interrupted coldly. "To Allison."

"To Allison? Why—"

He was cut off when another hand stung his cheek.

"Ey! Stop with the hitting," Stiles had said as he stepped forward, thankfully trying to save a fragment of Scotts ego that wasn’t already crumbling at his feet from being hit by a girl.

"Apologise to her, McCall!" Lydia had shouted, "I’ve never known a boy screw up as much as you did."

Lydia had stormed away, her heels clapping down the hall and Scott followed her direction to see Allison, standing at the end of the corridor. She was looking at him, eyes sad, even from a distance. She was holding her bag to her chest, hugging it as if for comfort.

"Scott," Stiles said at his side, also looking at the disappearing girls, "what the hell have you done?"

 

  
"Dude," Stiles had sighed after Scott had told him everything that happened the night before. They were sitting in the library, using their free period to supposedly study for their finals but instead trying to sort out Scotts love life that doesn’t seem to be improving as he hasn’t seen Allison since this morning. "You seriously messed up."

"How?" Scott groaned. Why do people keep saying that? He did exactly what Allison had asked—

"Did you really think she’d be okay with you not getting her anything for Valentines Day?"

"She said not to!"

 _"I know,_ Scott but— gah, you seriously have no idea how women work," Stiles said. He rubbed a hand down his face. "You should know this stuff, Scott. You live in a house with a female."

"Know what? _Help me,_ Stiles."

"You are such an oblivious dumbass for believing her, bro. How the hell did you even get a girlfriend? You know, if you didn’t look so much like a damn kicked puppy I would be laughing at you right now, but obviously you need some help understanding women logic."

Scott blinked. "Women logic?"

"Yes, Scott, women logic. The logics of women. A very powerful and very scary breed who will and can make your live a living _hell_ if you mess up as royally as you have, my friend,"

"Oh, God," Scott sighed. He dropped his head in his hands and groaned. "She said—"

"I know what she said, but that doesn’t mean she meant it. She’s a girl, Scott. Her saying that was like a test, and you failed! You failed bad. When she says she doesn’t want anything, she’s being polite and pretending all she wants is your company but guess what, bro, she didn’t _mean it_."

"Why would she be testing me?"

Stiles stared at him for a moment, face blank before he groaned loud enough for people to 'shh' him. He dropped his head onto the table, hitting his forehead with the worn wood. "God, Scott, why, oh _why_ are you so stupid?"

Scott frowned because _rude!_ Scott isn’t stupid, he’s _confused_ , and Stiles isn’t helping!

"Right," Stiles raised his head. "After school, we are going to the store and you are going to make this right."

"How is going to the store going to make this right, Stiles?"

"Have you not listened to anything I’ve said? You’re going o buy her the biggest bunch of flowers your wolf arms can carry and we’re going to buy the most expensive chocolates we can find. Then we’re going to go to Allison’s, you’re going to apologise for being an oblivious, stupid, no-brain puppy and give Allison the best Valentines 2.0."

"Valentines 2.0?"

"Sex, Scott. Think about the sex."

 

 

Scott had never been more thankful for the dynamics of debit cards — especially when its not his own. After spending all his money of a tux and rented car, Scott had to rely on the bank-of-mum to buy him the flowers and chocolates. He’ll probably regret it later but all that matters now is making it up to Allison before its too late and all he’ll ever be able to think about it how much he’s screwed up because, as Stiles has repeated, he is an oblivious, stupid, brain-dead puppy.

The duo walked out of the store with two pairs of arms full of flowers and chocolates before they climbed into the death-trap Jeep and drove to Allison’s.

"How do you know so much about this?" Scott asked. Considering Stiles lives in a house with just his dad and having his mother been gone before he even hit the needing age to know about this stuff, Scott was confused where Stiles had learned all of this.

Stiles shrugged, eyes on the road, "I know my women,"

Scott decided to drop it. Stiles knew loads of things so random and unnecessary, he’d probably searched it up on google for Lydia or some other obsession he had during his freshman years.

When they arrived, Scott was not expecting Lydia to answer the door.

"Hey, Lyds," Stiles said, dragging Lydia’s death glare away from Scott. He noted how her eyes softened at the sight of Stiles. "Allison home?"

"She is," Lydia answered, looking back at Scott, eyes hardening. "What do you want, McCall?"

"I need to speak to Allison," Scott replied. He motioned to the flowers and chocolates he’d managed to juggle in his arms.

Lydia stared at them for a moment, eyes moving to Scott, then to Stiles. She rose an eyebrow.

Stiles shrugged in response and Scott was surprised to find Lydia opened the door wider and motioned them in.

"She’s upstairs." Lydia tells him. She’s standing in front of Stiles closely — very close. Scott had been meaning to ask Stiles what he had actually been doing last night considering when Scott had phoned, it hadn’t even rung and instead went straight to answer phone — which is strange because Stiles never has his phone off. Scott had just assumed Stiles was having a Netflix marathon.

"McCall,"

Scott had began to make his way up the stairs but the call of his name made him turn.

"You better make this up to her or mark my word, you will wish you were never born."

Stiles was right, women are very scary. As Scott turned, he noticed his best friend’s arm was wound around the strawberry blondes waist, his hand resting lightly on her hip. To his surprise, Lydia hadn’t moved, made a scene or said anything. If anything, the girl had moved closer, melting into Stiles comfortably. _Huh_ , Scott thought, _maybe he wasn’t having a Netflix marathon_. He was defiantly going to have to talk to his best friend soon because holy shit, what the hell is going on and why isn’t Stiles freaking out? A year ago, Stiles would have been hyperventilating at just being in the same room as Lydia, let alone touching her.

 _Finally,_ Scott thought before he turned and made his way upstairs.

Allison was sitting crosslegged on her bed. Her hair was raining down her cheeks in the common ringlets she always wears and Scott loves to wind around his fingers. She was wearing a oversized checkered shirt, buttoned up.

When Scott opened the door, she looked up with tearful eyes, big and brown.

"Allison—" Scott started. He felt a lump in his throat, thick and unmovable. He moved into the room and crossed the floor where Allison was sitting. He sat on the edge of the bed, ignoring the way Allison was watching him with heavy eyes. He put the flowers and chocolate in front of her and didn't wait a beat before he apologised, "Ally, I am so sorry. I didn't— you said—I thought you didn't want anything—"

He was cut off by a pair of smal hands cupping his cheeks and being silenced by a pair of soft, warm lips. He hummed into the kiss, moving closer. It was sweet and kind, like Allison.

She pulled away first, slow and tender. Scott opened his eyes moments later to see Allison sitting back, smiling at him.

"Allison—"

"Stop," she said, placing a finger on his lips. "You don't need to keep apologising."

"But I—"

Allison shook her head, a smile still playing on her lips. "I know, it's okay now,"

"You were so sad," Scott said quietly. He was so damn confused. "And I thought—"

"It was just a bit of a shock, I thought you would get me something anyway," Allison said. "I guess I was just a bit disappointed."

"I'm sor—"

He was interrupted by a pair of lips crashing against his. This time more hungry, bitting and battling to get into his mouth. Scott moved foward, itching to get closer and touch. He was angsty, touch starved and hungry. He put his hands on Allisons waist, smiling into the kiss when he felt the bare hips. Her hands wrapped around his neck, pulling his into her and—

They ripped away from eachother with a gasp when something crashed. They looked to the floor to see the flowers and chocolates, spilled on the wooden floorboards.

"Oh—yeah, I bought those for you," Scott said, breathing heavily . He can smell the arousal in the air, heavy and thick, surrounding his nose like a blanket.

Allison smiled at him, shocked and content. "You didn't have to,"

Oh, he is _NOT_ falling for that again!

Instead of replying, Scott just crashed his lips against hers. They can deal with the presents after he's dealt with the growing need to feel the girl he loves.

Scott will never, _ever_ understand women logic.


End file.
